Chapter 1 #2
With squared shoulders, Baz strode toward his corner office, the reward for the last big case he had won.
It was a considerable upgrade from the cubicle in the bullpen he had before in terms of privacy, though not in spaciousness.
There were parking spaces bigger than his office, but no matter.
The associates’ floor was a layover, not the destination.
A dark-brown shelf, bursting with records of Baz’s past cases, covered the glass wall to the neighboring office. Gray, overfilled binders formed a neat pile on the left side of his desk, while his computer was on the right. In between sat a framed photo of Joel, Eevee, and him from a few years ago.
He dumped his briefcase on the office chair and straightened out his navy-blue Brioni suit. The best one he owned. It cost double his rent but, boy, was it worth it.
Aya always said one had to look the part to get the part. Baz refused to let anyone see him as a broke associate figuring out his life, because he wasn’t, and this suit screamed partner material louder than any other.
Lest he got accused of not respecting more post-trial traditions, he headed up to the partners’ floor. He found Aya sitting behind the desk. The words Aya Hadi - Equity Partner were engraved on the glass wall next to the door leading into her office.
The forest green power suit and light pink shirt, the same shade as her hijab, made her tawny skin glow. Everything about her, down to her hijab pin matching her golden watch and thin necklace, screamed meticulous.
Baz knew that to be true. Aya, uncompromisingly, held herself to the same high standard she held him to: always in charge, always in control.
He also knew that outside of work, she cried over old Nancy Meyers movies, but that information was a hard-earned privilege. Yes, he had discovered it by accident when he had come by her apartment unannounced to discuss a case once, but she would have told Baz eventually. Probably.
Her secretary, Tammy, nodded at him to go in, and Baz pushed the door open.
Aya’s focus remained on the keyboard clacking under her fingers. “Court dragged on this long?”
The wryness was ever-present in that Downton Abbey accent, courtesy of the British school her parents had her attend in Cairo. Yet another nugget of information—and not a slip of her tongue no matter what she claimed—Baz had earned.
“Excuse me, I escaped several reporters and an attempted lunch-kidnapping to make it here. Appreciate my sacrifice.”
That got her attention. Even earned him a smile. “Your sister was there?”
They had met once when Eevee showed up at a company networking event to ‘finally put faces to the names,’ and ended up talking for two hours, ignoring Baz the entire time. Since then, they’d been harboring a texting friendship that both insisted was none of Baz’s business.
“Yeah.”
“You should have gone. Would have saved me from having to make sure you remember to feed yourself today.”
She never had to. Baz was a capable adult—one with enough experience to know if he had accepted Eevee’s invitation, Aya wouldn’t have stopped teasing him with comments such as ‘what, one win and you already lost sight of the prize?‘
“I’ll remember.”
“You’d better. Tell me about the verdict.” She leaned back and crossed her legs.
“It went great. Satisfied client, huge award.” He dropped himself into his usual spot, the gray cushioned guest chair opposite her desk, and grinned. “Remind me, did you catch any fifteen-million-dollar fish when you were an associate, or…?”
The question was rhetorical—Baz had read all the significant cases of her career. He knew for a fact she had not.
She had come close, of course. Aya was brilliant.
She had set plenty of records in her time and wowed everyone with how quickly she climbed through the ranks, just like Baz was determined to do now.
Not that he had set a record here—rare as it was that associates were trusted with cases of this caliber, larger amounts had been won. Just not by Aya.
Such a rare opportunity to tease her ought to be exploited.
Aya raised one eyebrow. Amusement tugged at her lips. “You think it’s smart to get cocky with me?”
Not usually, no. But some cockiness, she couldn’t deny him on his victory day.
“Weren’t you the one telling me to pause and reflect on my achievements once in a while?”
“All right. Let’s reflect. Tell me three things you’ve done wrong.”
There it was, the humbling. Baz wasn’t ready for it yet; there was so much gloating to do still. He pursed his lips, made a show out of thinking hard. “Hmm… I was too charming?”
Aya’s dark eyes narrowed. “Uh huh.”
“I only made the jury laugh three times when it could have been four?”
“Baz.”
Fine, since she insisted. He sighed. “I stumbled in my opening statement and nearly forgot to ask a witness about something in the discovery. But I didn’t! Obviously. Carter was thrilled with the result, and that’s what matters, right?”
“That’s really it?”
“Yes. You would have been proud.” She was more than welcome to be proud of him now, too.
“That might explain why the big boss wants to see you in her office.”
Wait. What?
Baz sat up so quickly, the chair gave way under him. He held onto Aya’s white lacquer desk. He didn’t even care to check if anyone caught him slipping.
Erika wanted to see him. Five hundred employees under her belt, and she’d singled out Baz?
His pulse drummed in his ears. “Now?”
“She said to send you as soon as you’re back.”
“And you waited until now to tell me?”
What if he had gone to lunch and left Erika hanging for another hour? How would that have looked? Sloppy, lazy, and lacking the drive he prided himself on!
“I didn’t want you to freak out. The way you are doing right now.”
Baz settled back in the chair. His hands cramped into a tight knot on his lap.
“I don’t freak out.“ And Erika didn’t do friendly chitchat with associates for no reason. This could be it, his shot to prove to her he deserved to be made partner!
“Sure, you don’t,” Aya said in her you’re-full-of-shit tone Baz was too familiar with. He let that jab against his character slide without a retort only because there were more important things to focus on.
“Do you think she heard about the verdict already?” How fast did news travel around here these days? If this were a scandalous piece of gossip, everyone would know, but just another won case out of the thousands they handled?
“No. I’m sure the firm’s managing partner calls you in for a meeting after scoring a huge win to discuss what color her new curtains should be.”
A breathless chuckle escaped Baz. “Finally. And you said taking art history in college was a waste of time.”
“Didn’t even know you when you were in college.”
“You so would have said that, though.”
“Are you gonna keep talking or are you gonna go fix your hair?”
What was wrong with his hair? Baz patted the top of his head in search of rogue strands. He would sue the hair gel manufacturer for not keeping their promise to withstand all weather conditions—the hint of a smile broke through Aya’s poker face. Right. Just a joke, then.
Or was it? This was Erika they were talking about. Perfection was the standard. It wouldn’t hurt to check that the wind hadn’t caused any lasting damage.
Baz barely heard the “Good luck!” Aya shouted after him; he had already bolted to the nearest bathroom.